Man and Man and Wife
by Djinn1
Summary: Our intrepid threesome explores a new frontier: getting married. No weddings or wedding planners were harmed in the making of this story. The use of illegal substances is not encouraged. Professional fictional characters at work: Do Not Try This at


Man and Man and Wife  
  
by Djinn  
  
--The Proposal--  
  
Christine lay staring up at the ceiling, idly playing with Spock's hair as he rested his head on her stomach.  
  
Jim leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Ask him. There'll never be a better time."  
  
"I can hear you perfectly, Jim," Spock said, his voice barely more than a sated murmur.  
  
Christine smiled. She and Jim had outdone themselves. She looked over at her partner in crime, found his mouth next to hers, and kissed him. For a long time.  
  
When she finally pulled away, she said in a stage whisper, "He can hear you perfectly, Jim."  
  
Spock's hand tightened on her thigh. "What do you two want? Other than to kill me with pleasure?" He did not sound particularly displeased by that idea.  
  
"How long have we all been living together, Spock?" Jim asked, winking at her.  
  
She giggled, felt Spock's hand tighten on her thigh again.  
  
"One year, three months, four days, and an indeterminate amount of hours."  
  
"Indeterminate?" Christine asked with a smile.  
  
"I will determine that when I have recovered."  
  
Jim laughed.  
  
"Why do you ask?" Spock finally said.  
  
"I think it's gone well. Don't you?" Jim looked over at Christine.  
  
"I think it's gone great," she said.  
  
Spock sighed, lifted his head very slowly and turned it so he could see them.  
  
"What?" Christine said, as she resumed the head massage. "You don't agree?"  
  
A strange puffing sound came from Spock. As if he was almost laughing.  
  
"We really have worn you out, haven't we, love?" Jim leaned over, kissed him on the forehead. "Poor Spock."  
  
"What do you want?" Spock's eyes were slowly closing.  
  
"We want you to marry us," Christine said firmly, looking over at Jim.  
  
He nodded quickly. "Both of us."  
  
Spock's eyebrow slowly rose. "You want me to marry you?"  
  
"You need to make an honest man of me."  
  
"And stop buying the milk for free."  
  
"Getting the milk for free," Jim said quickly.  
  
"Right. The way he said it." She glared at him; she'd wanted the honest woman line.  
  
"Wedded bliss, Spock. Doesn't it sound nice?"  
  
To Christine's surprise, Spock's only response was a nod. She looked at Jim.  
  
He shrugged.  
  
Spock didn't move.  
  
"You still awake there, pardner?" He poked Spock gently in the ear.  
  
"I am." Spock swatted rather ineffectually at Jim's hand. Then he actually sighed. It was a sound of utter contentment.  
  
"You nodded. Was that a yes?" Christine stopped rubbing his head as she waited.  
  
"Whatever you want."  
  
She looked at Jim. "Whatever we want? Shouldn't we ask for more?"  
  
"Do not push your luck, Christine." Spock kissed her belly.  
  
"So you'll marry us?" Jim asked, winking at her. "For better, for worse?"  
  
"In sickness, and in health?" she said, winking right back.  
  
"You are a doctor now, Christine. How great a risk of sickness could there be?" Spock pulled the covers up over his head. They could barely hear him as he said, "I will no doubt regret this in the morning, but yes I will marry you."  
  
She looked at Jim, slightly stunned. They hadn't really expected this to work.  
  
Jim seemed to gulp. Then he said, "Okay, now that that's settled, who's going to wear the dress?"  
  
"Please stop talking," they heard from under the covers.  
  
Jim laughed and cuddled closer to her. He kissed her again. And again. And again.  
  
She began to giggle. "We're getting married."  
  
He kissed her some more.  
  
"Oh my god, we're getting married," she said when he finally pulled away. "We're insane."  
  
But she couldn't stop smiling. She noticed he couldn't either. From the gentle snores coming from under the covers, Spock was probably too deeply asleep to smile. Not that he would have, even if they hadn't worn him out with great sex.  
  
Jim smiled wickedly. "Never underestimate us when we team up."  
  
"We're dangerous." She closed her eyes, felt Jim snuggle in next to her, his breath warm on her hair.  
  
"I love us," he whispered.  
  
"Me too," she said as she let her exhausted body finally rest.  
  
Even two on one, it took a lot to wear out a Vulcan.  
  
--The Announcement--  
  
Six pairs of eyes stared back at them from around their living room. Six pairs of stunned, rather titillated eyes.  
  
Christine wasn't sure whether to laugh or run out of the room.  
  
"You want me to give Christine away? To both of you?" McCoy downed his bourbon.  
  
Jim took McCoy's glass and walked over to the bar, pouring out another generous helping of liquor.  
  
Chekov got up and joined him at the bar. He swapped his empty vodka glass for a bigger one, and filled it with Russian hundred-proof. "What exactly does the ring bearer do?"  
  
"Usher or bust, Pav," Sulu said with a grin as he sipped at his beer. He seemed to be the only one who wasn't in some state of shock.  
  
Christine studied him, suddenly curious what he'd been up to while they weren't looking. He saw her looking at him and raised both eyebrows in a "wouldn't you like to know" kind of way. She bit back a giggle.  
  
"Both of you?" Rand said for the sixth time.  
  
"We've covered this ground, Jan," Jim said gently as he walked past her to hand McCoy his drink.  
  
"Oh, yeah." She looked over at Christine, shaking her head in what could only be envy. "Both of them."  
  
Christine laughed. She turned to Uhura; her friend stared back at her blandly.  
  
"You don't have anything to say, Ny?"  
  
"I'm not wearing lavender, puce, or baby blue. There will be no big ribbon sitting right on my ass, no taffeta in the middle of summer, and no dyed-to- match shoes that kill my feet." It was clear from her tone that these were not negotiable things.  
  
"Okay," Jim said easily.  
  
Christine shot him a look. "But you know I had my heart set on her wearing puce taffeta with a ribbon on the butt."  
  
"I know, hon. But sometimes you have to compromise."  
  
"Oh, fine."  
  
She looked over at Spock. He was sitting quietly next to McCoy, the picture of composure.  
  
"You've been awfully quiet, Spock," McCoy said, taking another long drink of his bourbon. "Cat got your tongue?"  
  
"We have no house pet, Doctor."  
  
"You know what I mean, you big green lug."  
  
"How does it work? How big is the bed?" Chekov said, probably more loudly than he meant to.  
  
All eyes turned to him. He blushed deeply. "I mean the wedding. How big is the wedding?"  
  
Spock seemed to take pity on him. "The wedding will be large. The bed is also quite large; Christine has an excellent eye. Now, may we count on all of you?"  
  
Five heads nodded. Jim walked over to Scotty, who was sipping his Scotch thoughtfully.  
  
"Something you'd like to say, Mister Scott?"  
  
"No, sir."  
  
"Are you offended by this?"  
  
Scott began to chuckle. "No, sir."  
  
"So, this amuses you?"  
  
"Oh. Aye, sir." He took another sip of his drink, then looked up at Jim. "Are you happy?"  
  
Jim nodded.  
  
Scotty looked over at Christine, then at Spock. They both nodded.  
  
"That's the ticket then." Scotty stood, held up his drink. "To the happy cou--err trio." He chuckled again. "I can't wait to see the invitations."  
  
Jim shot Christine a glance; they'd spent three hours with the wedding planner earlier in the day and still hadn't settled on the wording. "We're working out the finer details of the language."  
  
"I bet you are, sir." Scott beamed at him. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to make light of your big day. But this is a bit..."  
  
"Out there, even for you, Jim," McCoy said, shaking his head. "Although, I'd put nothing past you, Spock." He looked up at her. "And as for you, Christine...I'm just a bit shocked."  
  
"Oh, Len, please."  
  
He laughed. "I have to say that if I'm to fill in for your daddy."  
  
"So you're not shocked."  
  
"I wouldn't go that far." He did look more than a little taken aback.  
  
"Come on, Bones. I'll buy you another drink." Jim led him over to the bar.  
  
Rand looked up at Christine. "Both of them?"  
  
Christine shrugged.  
  
"How is it?" Rand's shock was rapidly turning into something more like interest--gleeful if scandalized interest.  
  
"It's good." Christine saw her friend's wistful look and smiled. "No, it's not. It's great." She shot Rand a look of pure lascivious delight.  
  
"I hate you so much," Rand said with a laugh.  
  
"I think I do too," Uhura said softly, grinning. "And hey, I was serious about the ribbon on the ass thing."  
  
"I know you were." Christine laughed. "Dark blue dresses, very simple. Utterly lacking in butt accoutrements. You'll like them. They're pretty enough to wear somewhere other than a wedding. And it'll be inside. In the air-conditioning." She smiled.  
  
"You wearing white?"  
  
She giggled. "We all might. It'll be too funny." She giggled harder. "And they might wear the dresses. I'll do the tuxedo."  
  
"No way." Uhura began to laugh. "Actually, I think I can see Spock in a little off-the-shoulder thing."  
  
All Christine could picture was his chest hair curling over it. 'That's not a nice picture, Ny."  
  
"I think oyster might be better with his complexion. Bring out the green in his cheeks." Rand giggled into her champagne.  
  
"So, you're in?" Christine was happy to see them finally relaxing.  
  
"Oh," Rand said with an evil, evil grin. "We wouldn't miss this for the world."  
  
--The Bureaucracy--  
  
"There, that should be all of them." Jim collected Christine's padd, adding it to the pile he carried back to the clerk.  
  
Christine followed him. How much longer was this going to take? She was rapidly developing a raging headache.  
  
Spock rested a hand on her arm, as if he could sense her frustration. "Patience is a virtue, Christine."  
  
"Tell that to someone who hasn't been here for two hours."  
  
The clerk handed Jim two more padds. "And this is for marrying an alien." He handed that one to Spock. "Or two of them in your case, sir."  
  
Spock didn't react, just started filling out the form on the padd.  
  
The clerk turned back to Jim. "And those I gave you have the standard Vulcan pre-nup."  
  
"The what?" Jim looked at Christine.  
  
She shrugged, then regretted the move. It only made her headache worse.  
  
"Prenuptial agreement," the clerk said. "Standard procedure when humans marry into the Vulcan aristocracy."  
  
Christine turned to Spock. "You're an aristocrat?"  
  
"I am."  
  
"Are we rich?" She smiled to show him she was kidding.  
  
"Not once Sarek finds out about this," Jim muttered.  
  
Spock's expression actually lightened. Christine thought he was enjoying the idea of shocking his father. Lord knew he could never please the man. "Perhaps we should forego the prenuptials?" he ventured.  
  
She grabbed the padds from the clerk, handed one to Jim. "We don't want your money, Spock."  
  
"We're just using him for the sex," Jim said to the clerk with a devilish smile.  
  
"I really don't need the details, sir."  
  
"Actually, you will need them." Christine handed him a padd they'd brought. "We're applying for a tax break." She pointed down to the bottom of the padd. "Spousal group-multiple-other. That's us." It was right under Deltan Sexual Group and Tellarite Treeclimbing and Mating Foursome. Christine didn't want to think too hard about that last one. She'd seen too many Tellarites up close.  
  
Jim handed him another padd. "Here are the results of our medical exams."  
  
The clerk inspected the padds closely. "May I commend you on your thoroughness? Most people forget something."  
  
Christine laughed. "Most people aren't marrying a Vulcan aristocrat."  
  
"This is true," the clerk said.  
  
He took the padds from them, waited until Spock was done with his, then signed them at the bottom. He handed them back their padd. "There's one more thing," he said, pointing to the seating area. "You need to see the counselor."  
  
"Why?" Jim asked with a frown.  
  
"Standard procedure when we get a group."  
  
"You make it sound like we're forming a football team," Jim said.  
  
"Don't need to know the details, don't want to know the details." The clerk waved them away. "It's just standard procedure, sir."  
  
They sat down and waited.  
  
And waited.  
  
And waited.  
  
Finally, a door opened. A tall man looked out. "Spock, Kirk, Chapel?"  
  
"And a partridge in a pear tree," Jim muttered.  
  
"You gonna give him the patience lecture?" Christine asked Spock.  
  
"I am not."  
  
"Wise man." She followed Jim and Spock into the office.  
  
"Have a seat." The man looked them over. "I'm Doctor Reynolds." He didn't say anything more. Just waited.  
  
They all stared at him. For a long time.  
  
Finally, he picked up a padd and signed it, handing it to them. "You're set then. Give this back to the clerk as you leave."  
  
"That was it?" Christine asked.  
  
"Yes." He smiled. "Have a nice wedding."  
  
"You did not ask us anything." Spock raised an eyebrow.  
  
"I don't want to know anything." He smiled. "But you'd be surprised what people volunteer when the silence gets uncomfortable."  
  
They all just nodded.  
  
"Run along," the doctor said with a smile. "You have a wedding to plan."  
  
"Maybe you could give us an opinion." Jim dug out the holovids of the flowers they were choosing between. "What do you think?"  
  
"What colors are you using?"  
  
"Indigo and ivory," Christine said.  
  
Indigo had been Spock's idea. Seemed he had a rebel streak. She and Jim had left it up to him to find tuxedos in the appropriate shade of nearly- black blue. Not surprisingly, he had. Tastefully done ones too. He already had a robe in that color--apparently it was the house color.  
  
"Nice choice." The doctor looked the images over. "You can't go wrong with roses. Very classic."  
  
"See. That's what I said." Christine shot Spock a smug grin.  
  
Jim put the pictures away. "Thank you, Doctor. We'll get out of your hair." He suddenly seemed to notice the doctor was almost completely bald. "I mean..."  
  
"He means have a nice day, Doctor," Christine said as she pushed him out the door.  
  
Spock followed with more decorum. "I believe that went well."  
  
"We're really doing this, Spock." Jim took a deep breath.  
  
"Yes, Jim. I know." He looked at Christine. "My parents arrive back on Earth the day after tomorrow. They have invited me to join them for dinner that night. I told them I was bringing the two of you. We will tell them our news at dinner."  
  
Both Christine and Jim gulped.  
  
"We have to meet the parents--I mean, as your intendeds?" Jim said.  
  
He sounded as if he was glad that neither he nor Christine had parents to meet. Unless, Spock wanted to have dinner at their graves. Which Christine doubted he would want to. Although the thought suddenly struck her as morbidly funny.  
  
She probably shouldn't think it was funny, but between her headache and a huge case of nerves at meeting Sarek and Amanda again--this time as future in-laws--she was feeling a bit hysterical.  
  
"Breathe," Jim said, rubbing her back. "Just breathe."  
  
She grinned at him. Suddenly very relieved that he would be there too.  
  
He seemed to know exactly what she was thinking. "A dangerous team."  
  
She nodded. Then remembered how forbidding Sarek could be.  
  
"Breathe," Jim said again, as he pushed her out of the clerk's office.  
  
--Nerves--  
  
"You smell that, right?" Christine looked up from the padd she was reading. Her study was becoming nearly noxious with the cloyingly sweet and sort of meaty smell that seemed to be emanating from Spock's meditation room.  
  
Jim leaned over her, sniffing noisily.  
  
She laughed. "Not me. Out there. In the hall."  
  
"Yeah, actually, I do smell something." He went out into the hall, sniffed again. "I think Spock has some new incense."  
  
"Some stinky new incense." She sighed. There was no way she was going to work through the article tonight. Getting up, she joined Jim in the hall. "Oh, god, that reeks. Can you imagine how strong it is in there?"  
  
The door to Spock's room was shut tight.  
  
"That can't be good for him." Jim looked at her. "Can it?"  
  
"My 'I've been a doctor for all of two months' opinion is no, it can't be good for him."  
  
"Spock?" Jim knocked gently on the door. When Spock didn't answer, he tried the handle. "Not locked," he said softly.  
  
"Lead on, Macduff."  
  
He grinned and pushed the door open. Clouds of oily green smoke filled the room. Jim pulled her in and shut the door. She presumed he didn't want it getting out into the hall, and into their rooms.  
  
"Spock? What the hell is this stuff?"  
  
Spock looked up at them. He seemed utterly relaxed. "Ah. The incense. It is new."  
  
"Yes. And very strong." Christine felt a little light-headed. She knelt down next to him. "Is it Vulcan?"  
  
Spock shook his head. "Jamaican."  
  
"Jamaican?" Jim sat down, eyeing the white-wrapped incense doubtfully. "What's it called?"  
  
"You would not know it, Jim." Spock seemed to be rocking a bit as he sat. As if to music only he could hear.  
  
"Humor him, Spock."  
  
"It is called ganja."  
  
Christine grabbed the package of incense sticks. "One hundred percent pure cannabis." She began to giggle. "Why did you buy this?"  
  
"I confess I have been somewhat nervous over our upcoming dinner with my parents." He closed his eyes. "A Rastafarian friend of my brother's said this would help."  
  
"Your brother?" Jim shot her a look, mouthed, "His brother?"  
  
She shrugged. "You have a brother, Spock?"  
  
Spock nodded, his expression turned mournful. "He does not exist though. My father has willed it."  
  
"Ah. An imaginary brother." She smiled sadly. "You probably felt isolated as a child. I had an imaginary playmate when I was growing up."  
  
"I did not say my brother was imaginary."  
  
She patted his knee. "I'm sure to you he is quite real. Is he half Vulcan like you?"  
  
Spock frowned. Not a slight frown, or a half frown, but a deep frown. "No, he is a pure Vulcan." He leaned in, as if he was going to tell them a great secret. "But he embraces his emotions."  
  
They both nodded.  
  
"Alrighty then," Jim said. "Is anybody else hungry?"  
  
Christine leaned back, resting her head against Spock's shoulder. She felt so relaxed. "I'm starving."  
  
Jim smiled, pushing her down and kissing her deeply. Then he pulled Spock to him, more forcefully than was strictly necessary. They sort of toppled down over her into a very soft, very mellow pile. As the men kissed, lying on top of and around her, Christine started to giggle. They pulled away from each other eventually, Spock moving down to kiss her but she couldn't stop giggling.  
  
"You are nervous as well," Spock said.  
  
She nodded. "Your folks are going to hate us."  
  
"No they won't," Jim said as he pulled her shirt up, exposing her stomach to his lips. He worked his way to points higher.  
  
"They are already acquainted with you both. They think highly of you," Spock said as he pulled down her pants, working his way to points much farther south.  
  
Christine wiggled as their lips moved across her skin. "The idea of us, though. I mean with you. Both of us with you. They'll hate that."  
  
"That is possible." Spock pulled away. "They will judge us."  
  
Christine felt a feeling of paranoia run through her. They would judge them and then they would hate them. And she and Jim would never be welcome in the house, or on Vulcan, or anywhere near Spock. Ever again.  
  
Jim stopped what he was doing and got up, moving to the window, which he opened wide. "I think that's enough ganja for you two." He gestured to the incense. "Blow that out. We don't need it."  
  
Spock turned the cylinder and buried it in the container of sand that had been keeping it upright. "I am very hungry." He looked down at Christine, began to touch her again. Then held out his hand to Jim. "I am not hungry solely for food."  
  
Jim smiled. "You get started there; I'll go grab some munchies."  
  
Spock didn't stop to argue or agree, his lips began to trace a very hot trail down Christine's body.  
  
She threw her head back, could feel an extremely happy smile beginning to grow on her face. Then she thought about Sarek and Amanda. What would they think of her?  
  
"Christine, you are distracted," Spock said, as he reached for the meld points.  
  
In seconds, she forgot all about his parents. She was dimly aware of Jim coming back, of him feeding her something very yummy, before Spock pulled him into the meld too.  
  
Then there was only skin and lips and tongues and fingers and other nasty bits touching and joining and causing her and him and him to cry out. Loudly. Repeatedly.  
  
They finally lay quiet, limbs like rubber, mouths turned up in quietly triumphant smiles. She reached over, grabbed an apple slice from the plate Jim had set out of the way. She fed it to Spock, felt Jim's hand on her back, rubbing it gently. She began to smile even more.  
  
"What?" Jim leaned closer, and she reached for another apple, held it out to him, smiled as he kissed her fingers before biting off a hunk of the apple.  
  
"All the wedding stuff was sort of getting in the way of this. Of us. I never want to forget why we're together." She leaned down, kissed Spock's cheek, then Jim's.  
  
"We will not forget," Spock said gently, allowing her to feed him another slice of apple, before reaching for the plate and taking the last one, offering it to her.  
  
She bit into it, savoring the sharp tang. Juice ran down her face and she laughed, tried to stop it.  
  
"I've got it," Jim said, his tongue already licking her clean. "All better."  
  
She lay down, her head resting on Spock's shoulder, her hand in Jim's hair. "It's always all better when I'm with the two of you."  
  
She closed her eyes, felt Spock touch her hair, his long fingers working gently over her scalp, even as she did the same for Jim.  
  
Heaven. This was pure, unadulterated--totally undeserved but she wouldn't give it up for the world--heaven.  
  
--Meet the Parents--  
  
"So, my son. Your mother tells me you have news to share with us?" Sarek favored Spock with a look so penetrating it would have made a laser beam envious.  
  
Christine reached for her wine glass, sucking down a large amount of Vulcan red.  
  
Spock looked at Jim, then at her.  
  
She tried to smile gamely, a "give 'em hell, Spock" sort of smile. It didn't feel like it hit the target.  
  
"Yes. I plan to marry." Dive-bomber Spock took a bite of asparagus, carefully chewing as his mother and father sat staring at him.  
  
Christine saw Jim reach for his wine glass, felt unreasonably glad she wasn't the only one who needed a little artificial sustenance.  
  
"You do?" Sarek finally asked when it was clear that Spock was volunteering no further information as long as there was asparagus to chew.  
  
Spock set down his fork. "The wedding will be here, on Earth. You are, of course, most welcome to attend." The look he shot his father was less than warm, but his expression lightened when his eyes settled on his mother.  
  
"Spock? Who are you marrying?" When he did not answer immediately, Amanda looked over at Jim and Christine. "I take it that it's one of you?"  
  
Christine smiled. Bravely, she hoped. "Not one, precisely."  
  
Jim managed to pull out the JTK "Leave 'em with trembly knees" grin. "Both of us to be exact."  
  
"Both of you?" Amanda had a strange look on her face, as if she was trying not to cry--or not to laugh? "Exactly how did this happen?"  
  
"The usual," Christine said. "A deserted planet. A constant struggle for survival." Desperate horniness, she resisted adding.  
  
"Ah," Sarek said, as if nothing more needed to be spoken of the matter.  
  
"I don't mean it was the Pon--"  
  
Jim kicked her under the table.  
  
"Right. Better not to speak of it." She looked down, as if too embarrassed to go on.  
  
Amanda sighed. "How trying that must have been for you. All of you. Alone together." Her voice trailed off.  
  
Christine shot her a look. Amanda winked at her.  
  
"It was, of course, a difficult situation," Spock said, with an admiring glance at Christine, as if she had meant to lead Sarek down the garden path all along. "But we have learned to adjust, to make allowances for the road fate seems to have chosen for us. The three of us. Together."  
  
Jim lifted his glass to Spock, beamed proudly. "That's damned eloquent, my friend."  
  
Christine shot another look at Amanda.  
  
Spock's mother did indeed appear to be trying not to laugh. She looked over at Sarek. "My husband, have you no words?"  
  
The look Sarek shot the three of them was in no way warm, but he did seem to be resigned. He lifted his wineglass. "I honor my son's choice and welcome you into the family."  
  
They all lifted their glasses.  
  
Sarek sipped at his wine, but Christine could tell from the looks he was shooting Spock, that the two of them were going to have a discussion about the prenuptials before the night was over.  
  
A deeply uncomfortable silence began to fill the room.  
  
"So when can I expect grandchildren?" Amanda asked, barely managing to conceal a very devilish look as she smiled serenely at Christine. "I believe that's still up to you, my dear?"  
  
Christine decided not to tell her future in-laws that Jim and their son were certainly giving the seeding process the old college try. "We thought we'd leave that up to Spock's brother," she said finally.  
  
Sarek raised an eyebrow, the gesture eloquent in its surprise. Amanda looked shocked. And Spock quickly dished himself another plate of vegetables.  
  
"His imaginary brother," Jim clarified, his laughing grin making it all a big joke.  
  
Or not. Sarek turned to Spock, his face full of disapproval. "You shall not speak of this to them. Do you understand?"  
  
Christine was about to jump to Spock's defense when she felt Jim's foot nudge hers. He shook his head slightly, mouthed, "Let it go," and went back to eating.  
  
She followed suit.  
  
"As you wish, Father," Spock said, his voice full of something sullen and hostile. And ages old.  
  
Toxic, Christine decided. The atmosphere between them was toxic. She was suddenly not looking forward to holidays with the in-laws if this was how it would be. She stared down at her plate, wishing she'd kept the brother comment to herself.  
  
She was surprised to feel Spock's hand on her knee, squeezing it gently, the motion hidden by the heavy white tablecloth.  
  
"Christine has recently achieved her M.D." he said.  
  
There was a surprising amount of pride in his voice. Reaching under the tablecloth, she stroked his hand where it lay on her knee.  
  
Amanda made much of the news, even Sarek appeared interested. Christine looked over at Spock, smiled her thanks. She felt Jim's foot nudge hers gently. She smiled at him too.  
  
Together. They were in this together.  
  
Maybe those holidays wouldn't be that bad after all.  
  
Not as long as they were together.  
  
She wondered if Amanda had a bed big enough for them all. She decided to let that thought stay in her head. Her mouth had gotten them into enough trouble for one night.  
  
--The Rehearsal Dinner--  
  
Christine looked around the private room at the back of their favorite restaurant and felt her stomach seize up. Whose stupid idea had it been anyway to have a traditional, walk-down-the-aisle, recipe-for-disaster wedding?  
  
"You okay?" Jim asked as he came up, munching on a breadstick.  
  
"No." She grabbed his drink, drained it. The feeling of Scotch burning down her throat brought a small bit of comfort. "Where the hell is Spock?"  
  
Jim took the glass back and walked over to the bar that had been placed to the side of the long table. "He's finishing up with his cadets. You know that." He refilled his glass and poured out another for her. "Come here."  
  
"No." Her voice sounded so damned childish that she started to laugh. "What are we doing, Jim?"  
  
"We're getting married, Chris. Remember?" He carried the glasses over, handed the fresh one to her, and leaned in, nuzzling her ear. "Getting cold feet?"  
  
She smiled. "No." She turned so that his lips fell on hers.  
  
He laughed as he kissed her, one arm going around her, pulling her closer.  
  
She sighed and relaxed against him, her free hand reaching up to play with his hair the way he liked.  
  
"Hey, enough of that kissy-face stuff," Rand said. As they turned to her, she grinned. "Or at least let me play too."  
  
Jim shook his head, pulling her in for a quick hug before walking over to greet Uhura and Chekov.  
  
"If I wasn't jealous before, I am now. And that was your in-public kiss?" Rand looked around. "Where's Spock?"  
  
"Entrancing a whole new crop of female officers and probably half the males." Christine laughed. "He's at the Academy. It's finals."  
  
"Great timing, Chapel."  
  
"I didn't pick the day for this. I didn't even want to have this. Our wedding planner did. He said it would be bad luck to skip it."  
  
"Never argue with a good wedding planner." Rand waved at Scotty and Sulu as they walked in. "So I wasn't really kidding about being included." She turned a mischievous look on Christine. "You three ever take in strays?"  
  
"It's confusing enough already," Christine said with a laugh.  
  
"So that's a maybe?"  
  
Uhura grinned as she walked up. "Isn't it traditional to have an actual rehearsal with the rehearsal dinner?"  
  
Christine laughed. "It's also nice if the grooms can both make it."  
  
"Spock will be here. I saw him as I was leaving. He said he'd be finished soon." Uhura looked around. "Are we going to rehearse?"  
  
"We walk down the aisle. How hard can it be?" Rand began to hum the wedding march. "Or do we have to do some special step?"  
  
"Klingon goose step, I was thinking." Christine shook her head. "Just walk...it'd be nice if it were with some semblance of decorum. On the other hand, we're the threesome getting married. Decorum may fly out the window before we even get started." She took a big gulp of Scotch, forced herself to smile. Why, oh why hadn't they just eloped?  
  
"How big a wedding will it be?" Uhura asked.  
  
Jim walked up, put his arm around Christine. "Big enough." He grinned at her expression. "Small. It's small." He squeezed her gently.  
  
"It's not small. It's medium." Christine took a deep breath. "Small would be just us. We could do it here, right now."  
  
"Breathe." Jim kissed her cheek, then pointed to the door. "Soft...what Vulcan through yonder doorway walks?"  
  
"It is the Spock." She smiled as Spock joined them.  
  
He briefly touched Jim's shoulder and her hand before turning to the others. "Where is Doctor McCoy?"  
  
"Practicing his speech, no doubt," Jim said. "I'm sure it will be a doozy." He looked a little scared at what McCoy might come up with. In addition to giving her away, he was also best man. Their wedding planner had thrown a hissy fit, said it would screw up the feng shui of the wedding. Jim had finally threatened to can him if he didn't shut up about it.  
  
As if on cue, McCoy walked in, grinning broadly. "Tell me there's bourbon among those lovely bottles, and I'll be a happy man."  
  
Chekov held up one of the bottles. "I think this is what you want. Distilled by a little old Russian lady in Moscow...Kentucky."  
  
"Bless you, my son," McCoy said as he took the bottle from him and poured out a generous helping.  
  
Spock motioned for the waiters who had been hovering at the door to come in. "May I suggest that we sit?"  
  
"Aristocrats are so good at that," Jim whispered to her.  
  
"Does that mean you're Lord Jim and I'm Lady Christine?"  
  
"Somehow I doubt it." He gave her a last squeeze before walking to the other end of the table. He sat down by McCoy.  
  
"What's the matter, Jim? Don't you trust me to behave?"  
  
"Not even as far as I can throw you." Jim leaned in. "So, how's the speech coming?"  
  
"My toast?" McCoy grinned. "Well, I like it."  
  
"That's what I was afraid of."  
  
Christine sat next to Sulu. He shot her an easy smile, and again she was struck by how comfortable he seemed with the whole scenario.  
  
"You had a very wild youth, didn't you?"  
  
"I had an interesting roommate at the Academy. He was dating a Deltan. She was...quite fond of me."  
  
"I'm starting to get the picture."  
  
"Oh. I don't think so." He laughed, a very evil twinkle in his eye. "But you're closer than most people."  
  
She smiled. "Jan wondered if we took in strays."  
  
"Do you?" he asked, looking as if he might file that knowledge away for future use.  
  
Maybe they should start a waiting list?  
  
"No, we don't. Three's fine."  
  
"Too bad." He laughed again, then turned his attention to the appetizers that were making their way around the table.  
  
"So you're not having a bachelor party?" Scotty asked Spock.  
  
"We are not."  
  
Jim leaned in. "Who needs one last fling when you have this?" He waggled his eyebrows.  
  
"Aye. Who indeed?"  
  
Christine thought Scotty looked a bit envious suddenly. But still on the verge of some humongous laughing fit.  
  
"So who'll end up wearing the dress?" Rand asked.  
  
"She will," Spock said, indicating Christine with a nod. "It did not fit me."  
  
Christine thought Rand was going to fall off her chair. The whole table broke up.  
  
The waiters brought in wine, and Jim waited until everyone had a glass before raising his glass. "To our best friends. We may not be rehearsing, but we wanted a chance to say thank you with this dinner."  
  
"To a long and happy marriage," Uhura countered, lifting her glass to all three of them.  
  
"To very strong bedsprings," Chekov said, then pretended he hadn't meant to say it. When the giggles died down, he lifted his glass. "To love. If you find it, especially twice over, you are truly blessed."  
  
Christine wiped at her eyes. That was the sweetest thing anyone had said to the three of them.  
  
"I guess it's time for my speech." McCoy stood up. "To honor the occasion, I have written a poem. In three parts, naturally."  
  
Jim and Christine groaned, Spock stayed silent but looked slightly uneasy. Everyone else leaned in with anticipation.  
  
"There once was a man name of Kirk. Who met his two lovers at work. He couldn't decide, a groom or a bride? So he's taking them both--Admiral's perk."  
  
Christine groaned along with the others.  
  
McCoy just laughed. "What? You wanted real poetry? From me?"  
  
"What's the next part?" Sulu asked.  
  
"I'm getting there." McCoy took a big sip of wine before taking a theatrically deep breath.  
  
"There once was a nurse name of Chris. Who we all thought was a priss. But look at her now, she's busy and how. I wonder can I get a kiss?"  
  
He walked over to her chair and she kissed him. "I'll get you for this."  
  
"Promises, promises," he said with a gentle smile. Then he went to stand behind Spock's chair. "And of course, I saved the best for last."  
  
Spock's uneasiness looked more like outright anxiety. "Just proceed, Leonard."  
  
"Ooh, he called me Leonard."  
  
"First, do no harm, remember, Bones?" Jim said with a laugh.  
  
"Oh, yeah. I always forget that one." McCoy set his hand on Spock's shoulder for a moment, then coughed. Dramatically. "There once was a Vulcan named Spock. Who said his emotions were locked. We all know he lied, for his groom and his bride are clearly what makes his world rock."  
  
"My world does not rock, Doctor."  
  
"If you say so, Mister Spock. If you say so." McCoy leaned down and gave him a big kiss on the cheek--much to Spock's dismay. Then he walked back to his chair and picked up his wine glass. "To Jim Kirk, Christine Chapel, and Spock whatever the hell the rest of your name is but I probably couldn't pronounce it anyway." He shot Spock a soft look. "Three finer friends, I'd be hard pressed to find. It's an honor and a bit of a voyeuristic thrill to wish you a happy life filled with joy and contentment. To love. In all its fascinating permutations."  
  
"To love," the others echoed.  
  
Christine met McCoy's eyes. "Thank you," she mouthed.  
  
He shrugged. The perfect southern "Aw, shucks, ma'am" shrug.  
  
She heard Jim laugh, felt Spock's hand settle on hers and squeeze gently.  
  
"To love," she murmured, suddenly feeling much more relaxed.  
  
The waiters came in with the main course, refilling the wine glasses once they'd passed the food out.  
  
She drank deeply.  
  
Good friends, lots of excellent wine, and the love of two good men. The evening couldn't be any more perfect.  
  
Rand looked over at her. "How much of that do you have to drink before you're willing to share?"  
  
She just laughed. Jan was such a kidder.  
  
She hoped.  
  
--Pre-Wedding Interlude, Complete with Hangovers--  
  
Christine woke up slowly, aware of a dull pounding in her head and the loud staccato bass roar of two men engaged in a snoring duel.  
  
"Oh god, kill me now," she said, as she tried to figure out how to get out of bed. Jim and Spock had managed to wind the sheets up over her and she fought her way loose, her head screaming each time she jarred it.  
  
Married. She was getting married. Today. If her head didn't fall off first. Or she didn't kill her future husbands just to shut off the snores that had to be approaching eardrum-crunching decibel levels.  
  
She pushed Jim out of the way. Hard. He groaned, moving away from her and finally freeing up enough space that she could pull herself out from under the sheets. She crawled over Spock, managing to knee him in the side as she did it.  
  
"Christine?"  
  
"Tell me there's some antitox," she mumbled as she wove her way to the bathroom.  
  
"I told you that you would regret drinking that much," Spock called after her.  
  
She heard Jim groan, then mutter, "Keep it down, for god's sake."  
  
Rifling through the medicine chest, she finally found the antitox pills. She threw one back, chased it with a big gulp of water. Then she took one out to Jim. "I come bearing salvation."  
  
He opened one eye. When she held out the pill, he opened the other and sat up. He sucked the pill down, holding his head as he did so.  
  
"I will never understand the human predilection for overindulging," Spock said as he rose, donned his bathrobe, and walked out of the room.  
  
"Oh, blow it out your ear." Jim lay back down, covering his head with the pillow. "Wake me when you feel better."  
  
She laughed, then regretted it. The sound reverberated through her head, threatening to split her skull apart.  
  
"Not so loud," Jim said, his voice muffled by a pillow's worth of down.  
  
"Sorry." She slowly turned, trying not to jar anything as she pulled on her robe. Heading down the hall, she saw Spock waiting for her in the kitchen, a big mug of coffee held out to her.  
  
"I love you," she whispered as she gulped greedily at the caffeine-laden warmth.  
  
He always made such good coffee.  
  
His expression lightened and he turned back to fixing breakfast.  
  
As the smells gathered in the small room, Christine felt her stomach seize up. "I'm going outside." She walked out to their balcony, sitting in one of the chairs and watching the city come to life below her as she waited for the antitox to kick in.  
  
Spock opened the door. "You should eat."  
  
"Later."  
  
He didn't argue with her, just shut the door and left her in peace.  
  
She leaned back, closed her aching eyes and dozed. Some time later, she realized her head was no longer pounding and her stomach was protesting the lack of food instead of the idea of it. She got up and carried her mug inside.  
  
"That offer still good?" she asked Spock.  
  
He nodded. "I put your plate in the warmer."  
  
"You're a domestic angel, Spock." She retrieved it and called softly down the hall. "Up and at 'em, Jim."  
  
He muttered something about not feeling well and missing school.  
  
She shrugged. He could wake up on his own then.  
  
Setting her plate down on the table, she moved over to Spock's chair. Reaching around him to push the padd he was reading away, she leaned in and wrapped her arms around him. He turned his face so that she could kiss him.  
  
"Happy wedding day," she said as she pulled back.  
  
"Indeed. A most satisfying thought."  
  
She laughed, was about to turn away when he pulled her down for another kiss. When they finally drew away, she said, "Go wake Jim up." Then she grinned. "The way he likes best."  
  
Spock's expression shifted, turned somehow devilish. "Do you think he is in any shape to handle that?"  
  
"Antitox is a miraculous thing, Spock. Go see for yourself."  
  
As she started to walk back to her plate, he pushed his chair back, then surprised her by pulling her down onto his lap. His kiss was unrushed and very thorough. And his fingers...oh god, his fingers.  
  
"Sauce for the goose?" she asked with a grin, when she was finally able to speak again.  
  
"It seemed only fair."  
  
"How generous of you." She moved so she could reach him with her hand. "Oh, wait. I do this. Then Jim does this again later. Hmm, who makes out like the proverbial bandit?"  
  
Spock's eyebrow lifted slowly even as his breathing quickened. "I would seem to benefit from the scenario."  
  
"Sneaky bastard," she said, kissing him as he moaned into her mouth. Then she crawled off him just long enough to push his robe back and slip on top of him, around him. "You don't mind if I do this?"  
  
"I do not mind," he said, watching her as she moved.  
  
"Our last time as free people," she said, finding that it mattered surprisingly little to her that they would be married. There had been a time when the ceremony and ring was all she cared about. But that had been before Thule. And trying to survive. She knew what mattered now. Spock and Jim were her family. And always would be.  
  
Spock seemed in his own world, head thrown back a bit, mouth slightly open.  
  
She smiled. He was beautiful. Both her men were.  
  
He held her as he came down, nestling against her neck, his lips resting lightly on her skin. "I love you," he said softly.  
  
"I love you too," she said, enjoying the moment. Then she eased off him.  
  
He looked over at her plate. "Your breakfast is cold."  
  
She smiled. "But I'm not. It seems a fair trade."  
  
He nodded. "I should go wake up Jim."  
  
"Yes, you should, my love. Have fun." She smiled at him. Her love, Jim's love, their love.  
  
As he walked down the hall, she pulled his news padd toward her and began to read the morning's headlines. If they hadn't been getting married in a few hours, it would be just another day at Chez Trois.  
  
--The Wedding--  
  
"I thought you said this shindig was going to be small?" Rand asked as she pulled the slinky blue dress over her head. It fit perfectly, hugging in the right places, falling away gently in others not so ready to be accentuated.  
  
"It's only small in Jim's mind." Christine tried to swallow, felt her throat close up a bit. Nerves. Damn nerves.  
  
"Here," Uhura handed her a glass of water. She stepped back, studied Christine. "You look beautiful."  
  
"So do you." The dress suited Uhura as perfectly as it did Jan. Turning to the mirror, Christine smiled. Her ivory satin dress was simple and un- wedding like. She just hadn't been able to bring herself to wear anything more traditional. Nothing else about the marriage was traditional, why should her dress be?  
  
She patted her hair, still unsure how Rand had managed to get it all up in what was a very sexy style that seemed to be about to fall but didn't.  
  
"Don't mess with it. It's secure, but it's not glued in." Rand pushed Christine's hands away from her head and gently pulled a few strands loose to fall down around her face. "There, they'll fall in love with you all over again."  
  
Uhura glanced out the door of the small room the wedding planner had appropriated for them. "Uh, Christine. Did you invite the Vulcans?"  
  
Christine turned. "How many Vulcans?"  
  
"Where I'm from we'd call that many a shitload."  
  
"No way." She hurried to the door, gulped. "Len," she said quietly to McCoy.  
  
McCoy walked over slowly. "That's a lot of Vulcans. I didn't know Spock was so popular."  
  
"He is an aristocrat. Maybe they have to come."  
  
"Maybe."  
  
He sniffed suddenly. "Do you smell something?"  
  
Christine stepped out of the door, peeked around the corner. Reverend Davis was nowhere to be seen, but a Rastafarian was at the front of the church, lighting some small cones of incense.  
  
"No. We don't have enough food if everyone gets a bad case of the munchies." She pushed McCoy up toward the front of the church. "Go stop him."  
  
"Me? Why me?" McCoy motioned to the wedding planner. "Yo, Sylvio. Ixnay on the Mary Jane."  
  
The planner stared daggers at the front of the church. Then he barreled up the side aisle and whispered to the Rastafarian, who kept shaking his head and pointing to the back of the church. Finally, Sylvio said something that shut him up. The Rastafarian retrieved the still-burning ganja and hurried down the aisle, a cloud of aromatic oily smoke sinking over those seated. Sylvio trailed after him, a dreamy smile on his face.  
  
As the Rastafarian passed her, he said, "I was just trying to help."  
  
Sylvio smiled wider. "Interesting stuff." He yawned. "I'm suddenly very tired." He pushed past her, Uhura and Rand, and plopped into the big arm chair that was the only seat in their little room.  
  
"Don't you dare go to sleep," Rand said, hitting him on the top of the head with her bouquet.  
  
He began to snore.  
  
"Damned lightweight," Christine said. "Okay, team, we're down a planner. That's okay though because we're pretty much past the planning stage and well into execution." She winced at the choice of words. She felt as if she was going to hers. She hadn't been this nervous since her first week in med school.  
  
Suddenly, McCoy pushed her toward the little room. "Spock and Jim are coming out. They can't see you; it's bad luck."  
  
"But they get to see each other?"  
  
"Hon, I don't make the rules."  
  
"Fine." She was just heading into the changing room when she realized a tall bearded man was peeking in at the doorway. He smiled at her, a rather heartbreakingly sad smile, then stared down the aisle to the front of the church. His smile grew bigger, and even sadder.  
  
"Can I help you?" she whispered.  
  
He shook his head slowly. "I don't belong here. But I wish you a very happy marriage. All of you." He smiled tenderly at her and then backed out the door and let it fall shut. Just before the door closed, she saw that the Rastafarian was waiting for him.  
  
"Christine, get in here." Uhura motioned her in. "You're forgetting something. Something old, something new."  
  
Christine touched her earrings. "Old." She smoothed the dress down. "New." She patted Sylvio on the head. "Something borrowed?"  
  
"Nyah. You need better than that." Rand put a pearl and silver bracelet around her wrist; Christine knew it was her favorite and was touched at the gesture. "Something borrowed. Although if you want to trade it for one of your fellows--or even just some time in your body--I might be up for that."  
  
Christine laughed.  
  
"And something blue." Uhura slipped a bottle out of her bag and three small glasses.  
  
"Is that what I think it is?" Rand looked admiringly at Uhura. "You are one ballsy dame."  
  
Uhura laughed as she poured out the blue beverage. "Why, Janice. Romulan ale is illegal." She handed Christine a glass, then gave one to Rand. Picking her own up, she lifted it. "To my two best friends. May we never forget why we're friends."  
  
Rand laughed. "To more good times ahead."  
  
Uhura nodded. "Hopefully at Christine's house. With the boys." She made a very lascivious face.  
  
"To my two best friends. I'd never survive this without you." She lifted her glass to them, then threw back the drink. It burned all the way down.  
  
Uhura and Rand did the same. They all had tears in their eyes when they got done.  
  
McCoy peeked in. "Ah. You three getting all sentimental. That's sweet." Then he noticed the bottle. "Is that Romulan Ale?"  
  
"Yes, and we're not sharing."  
  
"I'll tell Jim you have it."  
  
Uhura handed over the bottle and her glass.  
  
"Thanks, sweets," McCoy said, heading out the door as he poured the drink.  
  
Uhura sat down on Sylvio's lap. "He makes a better planner than a pillow."  
  
Sylvio shifted, his hand coming around to clutch her around the waist. "I'll be a very good boy. Please don't discipline me, Mistress Rowena."  
  
Uhura peeled his hand off her and got up quickly. "Okay, that was more than I wanted to know."  
  
Rand peeked out the door. "Did you figure out why the Vulcans are here?"  
  
Christine realized she hadn't. She'd been distracted by the ganja man. "Does it matter why? They're here now. And seated."  
  
Rand moved to look at herself in the mirror. "You know, Christine. These are damned nice dresses."  
  
"Thank Spock. He picked them out." At their looks, she laughed. "I love going shopping with him. He has the best eye."  
  
"And all that wealth," Uhura said.  
  
Christine nodded. He did like to buy her and Jim nice things. And he never seemed to look at the price tag.  
  
Rand sighed. "I hate being a bridesmaid. And no jokes about never being a bride. I just hate walking down that aisle."  
  
"The last wedding I was at the flower girl dropped her basket and the best man misplaced the ring. He spent a good five minutes going through his pockets while the bride and groom glared at him. I didn't know anyone could sweat as much as that poor man did." Uhura nodded, laughing softly. "Good times."  
  
Christine shuddered. "I just want to get this over with." Elopement still was a viable option. If she fled now and if Jim and Spock followed her.  
  
"Well then, let's get started before you lose your nerve." Rand nodded to McCoy, and he nodded to someone at the front of the church.  
  
A second later, the sound of the bridal processional began to play. Christine presumed Reverend Davis had finally shown up.  
  
"Okay, let's go. They're playing our song," she said with more bravado than she felt. Her heart was pounding way too fast. When everyone turned to look down the aisle at her, she felt as if she might hyperventilate. Maybe she could sneak up the side aisle and nobody would notice?  
  
Rand was walking down the aisle. Christine saw that Jim was looking past Rand at her. He mouthed something; she couldn't read his lips from the distance but she knew it was, "Breathe." She smiled. If she could just make it up to him and Spock, she'd be fine.  
  
Uhura started down the aisle. Christine looked over at McCoy.  
  
"Ready, darlin?" he asked, the Romulan Ale bottle safely stowed somewhere out of sight. His blue eyes were suspiciously bright.  
  
"You old softie. You're going to cry."  
  
"Well, I have to give my little girl away..." He grinned.  
  
She mock punched him, saw a few eyebrows go up from the Vulcans in the back.  
  
"Here we go," McCoy whispered.  
  
"You have the rings?"  
  
"What rings?"  
  
She shot him a dark glance.  
  
"Of course, I've got them." He patted his top pocket, then looked a little panicked. "Somewhere."  
  
"Cut it out, Len."  
  
He smiled. "See." He pulled three rings out. "Don't trip."  
  
"Shut up," she said as they set out.  
  
Miraculously, she didn't trip. Or laugh uncontrollably. Or cry when McCoy gave her away and then moved to stand next to Jim and Spock, nodding to Scotty, Sulu, and Chekov. The attendants looked sort of lopsided--her two to the boys' four. She'd laughingly tried to get Sulu or Chekov to wear a dress and stand on her side. They'd not surprisingly opted out. Scotty had looked a bit interested though.  
  
Reverend Davis took a deep breath. He'd confessed to her that he'd never done a group wedding before. The way he started out reading the vows, it sounded like he didn't do a lot of weddings period.  
  
She looked over at Spock. He was standing serenely. She turned to her other side. Jim winked at her. She felt better already.  
  
They ran through the "Do you take this woman..." part and then ran the "Do you take this man..." part twice. The minister seemed to jump each time two of them said, "We do."  
  
McCoy fished out the rings on cue, and they slid on easily as each of them held a finger out to the other two.  
  
Reverend Davis sighed, as if in relief they'd gotten that far. "Does anyone assembled here know of just cause why this man...and man and woman should not be lawfully wed? Speak now or forever hold your peace."  
  
There was a soft sound coming from Rand. Everyone in the wedding party looked over at her.  
  
"What?" she whispered. "I was just clearing my throat." She made an impatient gesture at the minister. "Keep going. Yeesh."  
  
All the heads faced front again. Christine felt Jim's hand squeeze hers. She started to laugh. Saw the look on the pastor's face and forced herself to stop.  
  
"By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband...s and wife. You may kiss the--you may kiss." He closed his service book with a relieved snap.  
  
They didn't try to make it a three-way kiss. For decorum's sake, it was little more than a quick buss all the way around.  
  
"We can do better later," Jim said softly as they pulled apart. His eyes were softer than Christine had ever seen them. "Married," he whispered, shaking his head as if he couldn't quite believe it.  
  
They turned and walked down the aisle and Christine was very glad that she hadn't gotten one of the dresses with the voluminous skirts and trailing train. No way they would have all fit in the narrow space if she had.  
  
"You look beautiful," Spock said as they finally reached the back of the church, his hand touching hers briefly.  
  
"She does." Jim was beaming. "So do you." He shot them an expectant glance.  
  
"You look good enough to eat," she said.  
  
"Indeed." Spock nodded toward the door. "I believe we have a flitter waiting."  
  
"What about the guests?" Christine asked.  
  
"They can find their own way to the reception," Jim said as he ducked out the door. "Come on."  
  
They followed him; Christine felt like a naughty child sneaking out of school. "Don't we have to sign something?"  
  
"Nope." Jim sounded sure but something in his expression told Christine he was making it up. Oh well, they could always go back and sign stuff later.  
  
"The flitter has a privacy screen, doesn't it?" She saw that the waiting vehicle also had a very large seating area. "Jim, you're bad."  
  
He shrugged. "Define bad."  
  
"However she defined it, there would be an image of you next to the definition." Spock urged her into the back seat.  
  
"You're not exactly the picture of propriety, Mister," Christine said as he followed her in.  
  
"I am aware of that, my wife." Spock's expression lightened. "My wife. My husband. Words I will enjoy using."  
  
"Enjoy? Why that's an emotion, dearest," she said.  
  
"Yes. I seem to be unable to resist them where you and Jim are concerned."  
  
Jim told the computer to take them to the reception hall. He also dictated the route.  
  
"Isn't the hall a few blocks from here?"  
  
"Not if you go via Berkeley," he said, an evil grin growing as he hit the switch to darken the windows and pull down the screen. "So, we'll be a little late."  
  
She looked over at Spock. He was already pulling off her dress. "We would not want this to wrinkle," he said as he rolled it carefully. Then he pulled his own robe off.  
  
It took Jim much longer to get out of his tux. "That's what I get for wearing the pants in the family," he said as he finally shrugged out of the offending trousers.  
  
Then nobody said much of anything for the rest of the ride. But that didn't keep it from being very noisy in the back of the flitter. Very, very noisy.  
  
--The Reception--  
  
"How's my hair?" Christine asked as she got out of the flitter.  
  
"It's sexy as hell," Jim said, patting her on the ass as he followed her.  
  
"Yeah, but is it the same as when I got in the flitter." She touched her hair, couldn't tell if they'd knocked it askew or not. "They'll know we were up to something if it looks different."  
  
Spock took her arm. "We are fifty-two minutes late to our own reception. I believe they will suspect the worst no matter how your hair appears."  
  
"Good point." She heard Jim giggle. "It's not funny, you."  
  
He put his arms around her, pressed his chest against her back. "I liked it better when you didn't have the dress on."  
  
He reached out and pulled Spock to him. She was held safe between them as they hugged, one big indigo/ivory sandwich.  
  
"Once more into the breach?" Jim whispered as he pulled away. "What are your parents going to say, Spock?"  
  
"No doubt my father will pretend nothing is amiss. Although he will give me frequent disapproving looks."  
  
"And Amanda will wink at me," Christine said. When Spock shot her a look, she nodded. "It's true. Your mother seems to enjoy the idea of us." She frowned. "Who were all the other Vulcans at the wedding?"  
  
"Nobles. It is required that they attend higher functions for the other houses. But I believed they would not consider it their duty to venture to Earth."  
  
"Well you believed wrong, my fine Vulcan friend." Jim laughed as he pushed them both toward the reception hall, a hand on each of their butts. "Ah. This is the life."  
  
The hall was bustling and they tried to sneak in but Sylvio spotted them from across the hall. "There you are," he shrieked.  
  
Everyone turned.  
  
For one brief moment there was a dead silence. Then Jim stepped forward. "Wow. Look at this turn out. This is great. Thank you for coming." He started nodding to people, clasping a hand here, grabbing someone for a quick hug there.  
  
"Now there's a man who knows how to work a room," Christine said softly to Spock.  
  
"Indeed. Shall we do likewise?"  
  
"Why, yes. We shall." She squeezed his hand quickly, then headed off to say hello to Sarek and Amanda.  
  
"Doctor Chapel," Sarek said stiffly.  
  
"Oh, Sarek, she's your daughter-in-law now. You have to call her Christine." Amanda drained her champagne glass and turned to Christine. "Come along, my dear. I need more champagne."  
  
"Wife, you do not need more champagne."  
  
"Oh, darling. That was just my way of saying Christine and I are going to have the talk."  
  
Sarek looked vastly uncomfortable. "As you will, my wife."  
  
Amanda giggled as she led Christine to the bar. "I don't have to give you the talk, do I?"  
  
"God, I hope not." Christine watched Amanda sip at her drink. "Are you okay with all of this?"  
  
"What's not to be okay with? You love my son. Jim does as well. It's perfectly obvious to me that Spock is crazy about you two. I'm just glad he's happy. He's had so little of that in his life." Amanda looked over at Sarek. "And he'll come around. Once he gets over the shock." Amanda grinned, the expression was filled with pure mischief. "And possibly the envy. The three of you do look pretty together."  
  
Christine looked over at Jim where he was standing talking with some former crewmembers. He looked happy, at ease. And heartstoppingly handsome. She searched for Spock, found him deep in conversation with Uhura and Sulu. He seemed to feel her gaze on him, looked up at her. His expression softened. She could feel her own smile soften as she looked at him.  
  
"See what I mean?" Amanda said.  
  
Sylvio rushed up to them. "Doctor Chapel. I must speak with you."  
  
"Will you excuse me?" she asked Amanda.  
  
Amanda nodded and wandered back to Sarek's side.  
  
"What is it, Sylvio?"  
  
"You didn't tell me we would have thirty Vulcans here. High-ranking Vulcans."  
  
"Oh. That. Well, I didn't know they were coming. What difference does it make?"  
  
"The caterer didn't make enough of the vegetarian dish."  
  
"So? Let them eat cake." She'd always wanted to say that.  
  
Sylvio just glared at her.  
  
"What? They don't eat eggs?" She pulled Sylvio to her, kissed him on the forehead. "You're the wedding planner, Sylvio. I'm just the bride. You figure it out." And with that she left him, determined that logistical details were no longer in her bailiwick.  
  
She mingled as Sylvio scurried around near the buffet tables. It looked like he was taking the rice and vegetables back into the kitchen area. Then he grabbed the crudites platter. Whatever.  
  
She walked over to where Scotty stood alone by the bar. "So. This is all pretty strange for you, huh?"  
  
"Oh, lass. I didn't mean to give you that idea." He put his arm around her, squeezed her with surprising strength. "I can remember when you were the nurse with the hopeless crush on yon Vulcan. I always felt sorry for you. Now look at you. You've got him and the Admiral both." He smiled gently. "I'm happy for you, Christine. I'm happy for all of you. And maybe a little jealous. I find love, but I never seem to be able to hang on to it."  
  
Christine remembered all the women he'd dated on the ship. He never did seem to make a go of it with them. "Maybe you just haven't met the right one."  
  
He laughed. "Or the right two? Maybe that's what I was doing wrong. Thinking I had to pick just one."  
  
She smiled. "Maybe so."  
  
Jim walked up to them. "I hate to do this, Scotty, but I have to steal her away. The pastor apparently has some documents for us to sign."  
  
Christine looked over at the minister. He did not look happy with them.  
  
Scotty grimaced. "And you don't want to tick off a clergyman."  
  
Jim nodded toward the buffet. "Our wedding Gestapo said to help yourself to the buffet. Would you mind getting people headed that way?"  
  
"Not at all, sir." Scotty seemed glad to have an official purpose. He looked like an indigo and white border collie, herding the guests toward the waiting chafing dishes.  
  
Christine and Jim joined Spock, signing the forms quickly for the pastor. Then they waited till people began to sit and moved around the tables, stopping to talk and then moving on to the next one.  
  
Sylvio came up. "If you three are eating, do it now." He checked his padd. "We have cake cutting in ten minutes."  
  
"Why ten?" Jim asked.  
  
Sylvio's expression was full of affront. "Because I said so. And I'm the planner."  
  
"Right." Jim sighed. "Let's get some food."  
  
They followed him to the buffet but none of them seemed very hungry.  
  
Spock stared at one of the dishes. "I do not believe we ordered this."  
  
Christine looked inside. Sylvio had dumped the rice, vegetables, and raw stuff all together. And added some sort of spice. "It's the vegetarian dish," she said.  
  
"It does not look as I remember it."  
  
Christine shot him a look. "It's vegetables, isn't it?"  
  
"Yes but--"  
  
"--Spock," Jim said, with a warning glance. "Let it go."  
  
With a last, somewhat dismayed look at the food, Spock turned away.  
  
Sylvio marched up to them. "And five, four, three, two, one."  
  
They all just looked at him.  
  
"Go cut the friggin' cake. How many times do I have to tell you?" Sylvio's attitude was unraveling by the second.  
  
Christine decided not to argue with him. "Okay, guys. Let's go cut the cake. On five, four, three--"  
  
Jim swatted her on the butt. Then his hand reached for her again, this time running softly up and down the satin.  
  
"Fixated tonight, love?" She leaned back and kissed him. Then she pulled herself and her apparently alluring caboose away and headed for the cake table.  
  
She turned and saw Jim and Spock kiss lightly, then they came to join her. "Shove this in my face and die," she told Jim, then turned to glare at Spock.  
  
"I wouldn't dream of it," Jim said as he cut a small piece and, with a surprising amount of restraint, fed them gently to her and Spock.  
  
They returned the favor.  
  
Everyone clapped and the waiters wheeled the cake table away to begin serving.  
  
Christine looked at Sylvio; he was making an odd throwing motion.  
  
"I believe he is having some sort of seizure," Spock said softly.  
  
"Oh, shit," Jim said. "Chris, where's your bouquet?"  
  
She frowned. She'd had it during the wedding. And then they'd gone straight to the flitter...  
  
"I think it's safe to say it's history." She smiled at the two men. "You just wait here for a second." She walked over to Rand and Uhura. "Could I borrow a bouquet?"  
  
"Left yours somewhere?" Uhura asked with a smirk.  
  
Rand touched her hair. "It's holding, but I notice there's a lot more strands down then I remember."  
  
"Guys, please?"  
  
Rand pressed her bouquet into Christine's hands. "I already used it to wap your planner. What's a little sail through the air gonna do to it?"  
  
Christine kissed Rand on the cheek. "Thanks." She carried it back to Jim and Spock, turned around and saw that a bunch of women she'd never seen before had lined up on the dance floor and were jockeying for position.  
  
Rand and Uhura were still seated and studiously avoiding looking at her.  
  
"Okay ladies." She turned and whispered to the men, "I want this to go to Janice." She held up the bouquet, gave it a few practice lifts.  
  
"Turn to your left, more, more, yes." Spock studied her aim. "Minimal force."  
  
Jim nodded. "Straight back and you should have it." He glanced over at the women. "They're going to kill each other."  
  
She laughed. "They may kill me before we're through here." She took a deep breath. "Okay, here goes," she called out.  
  
She let the bouquet fly, heard some squeals and heavy grunting from the women, then heard Rand say, "God damn it, Christine. I don't want to be married."  
  
The whole room broke up.  
  
"Excellent throw, Christine." Spock nodded approval at her.  
  
"Damn good aim." Jim sighed. "Can I get a drink now?"  
  
The wedding planner was making little dance motions.  
  
"I do not wish to dance. You two do it," Spock said, and headed off to the table of Vulcans.  
  
"Well, I like to dance," Jim said with a laugh as he held his hand out to her. "Honor me with this one, love?"  
  
She smiled. She'd do just about anything this man asked her to. She took his hand and let him lead her onto the dance floor.  
  
Jim smiled at their friends. "Since our stalwart mate claims to not like dancing, you're stuck with us." He grinned at Spock, then pulled Christine into his arms. "Not that I mind in the least dancing with you, Chris."  
  
"I know. But they really do need to invent a three-person waltz."  
  
He laughed. She felt very conspicuous at first, dancing alone with him on the big dance floor. Then his arms tightened around her and his lips found her ear and cheek and she lost herself in him. Before she knew it, the music was changing and others were getting up to dance.  
  
McCoy walked up. "I believe it's customary to dance with the father of the bride."  
  
Christine laughed and pushed him into Jim's arms. "You're right. It is."  
  
McCoy looked startled; Jim pulled him in extra close. "Let's dance, Bones."  
  
And off they went, Kirk led him out in a fast waltz, McCoy gamely trying to keep up.  
  
Spock walked up behind Christine. "I do not believe that was what Leonard intended."  
  
She giggled. "Nope. I imagine you're right." She felt Spock touch her, his hand running along her waist. It was sensual and in time with the music. "So you do dance?"  
  
"This is hardly dancing."  
  
"Could have fooled me." She leaned back, felt him lean in against her. The movement was subtle but comforting. "When we get home, will you dance with us there?"  
  
"I believe I have been dancing with you there for some time." His voice was amused.  
  
"Oh, is that what you call that?"  
  
"It is nicer than some other words I have heard you and Jim use." His hand tightened on her. "Not that I mind those words particularly."  
  
They stood together, her back pressed to his chest, his hand on her waist. Jim and a breathless McCoy danced up.  
  
"I'm going to kill you for this, Christine." McCoy wiped at his forehead. "Damn fool stunt."  
  
She led him back out to the dance floor. "Dance with me then. Slowly."  
  
"That's more like it," he said, his grumbles continuing for half the dance.  
  
She saw Jim dancing with Rand and smiled, looked for Spock and saw him talking with his parents. She relaxed finally. It was done. They were married and soon all these people would go back to their homes, and she and Jim and Spock could get on with their lives. Their lives together.  
  
"So you leave tomorrow for your honeymoon?"  
  
She nodded.  
  
"Where you going?"  
  
"Not sure. Spock picked it out. Won't tell us where. Said it's a surprise."  
  
McCoy harrumphed. "Probably some damn Vulcan monastery."  
  
She remembered just what Spock had been doing in the flitter. "I doubt that, Len."  
  
"I don't want to know."  
  
"And I'm not going to tell you." She laid her head down on his shoulder. "Wake me when the reception's over."  
  
He laughed. "Like Jim will let me monopolize you that way?"  
  
"True." She kissed him on the cheek. "I love you, you know."  
  
His hands tightened on her and he sort of stuttered. "Oh, darlin'. I love you too. I love all of you." He started to chuckle. "Even if you are a bunch of nymphos."  
  
"We're not nymphos. We just like sex."  
  
"Oh. My mistake."  
  
The music ended and she found Sulu at her arm, saw that Uhura had claimed Jim from Rand. And Spock, Scotty and Chekov looked deep in conversation.  
  
She closed her eyes as the dance started, trusting Sulu to lead her safely through the steps. She was suddenly very, very tired.  
  
"Stay awake or I'll be insulted." Sulu's voice was gently amused.  
  
"I'm awake. Just dead on my feet."  
  
"You can sleep then. I'll look out for you."  
  
She nodded. She knew he would. That any of them would, just as she would for them.  
  
It was what friends do.  
  
--The Honeymoon--  
  
Dead tired, Christine stopped at the open door to the apartment. They had all decided they wanted their first night as spouses to be spent in their lovely big bed. The honeymoon could start the next day.  
  
But now came the crucial question. Who was going to carry whom over the threshold? She turned to Jim.  
  
"Race you for it," he said with a grin.  
  
They both charged the door, but she felt Spock's hand on her arm bringing her up short. Jim too jerked back. They both giggled. Far too loud.  
  
"Our neighbors may be trying to sleep."  
  
Christine looked over at Jim, rolled her eyes. Spock still lived in that wonderful world of denial. The one where their walls were sound proof and the neighbors didn't hear just how loud three people could get.  
  
Jim said softly, "You have a better suggestion, Spock?"  
  
"I do." Spock lifted them both slightly off the ground, as if they were two sacks of groceries. Then he turned sideways and carried them the few short steps through the door before putting the down.  
  
"As far as sweeping us off our feet goes, that was pretty lame." Jim pretended to pout.  
  
"Jim," Spock's tone was velvety seduction. "I believe I have been sweeping you two off your feet for some time." He eased the door shut with his foot, was already pulling off Jim's jacket. "Christine is overdressed," he told Jim, as he continued removing the tuxedo.  
  
"I can remedy that," Jim said, pulling her dress off. "Do we care if it wrinkles now?"  
  
She shook her head. That's what they made refreshers for.  
  
"Good."  
  
As soon as they were naked, they turned to Spock, pulling his robe off of him, then his undergarments. He drew them into a tight meld, went deeper than he'd taken them before.  
  
Then he backed off.  
  
"Spock?"  
  
Christine could feel Jim's concern through the meld. She could feel something else. A deep need on Spock's part. For more, for completion.  
  
And it wasn't for sex.  
  
"Can you bond with us both?" she asked softly. And if only with one of them, who would he choose?  
  
She could feel his reaction to her question come flying back through the meld. He would live forever with the unfulfilled need before he would choose between them.  
  
It touched them both. Their love sang through the meld.  
  
"Can you try?" Jim said. "See if it works and pull back if it doesn't?"  
  
"I believe so." Spock let go of the meld points and herded them both to the bed. "You must be relaxed and as open to me as you can. I am not sure if this has been tried."  
  
Christine smiled. "Everything under the sun has been tried, Spock. It's probably just not been talked about."  
  
"Excellent point, Christine."  
  
They lay down and Spock knelt at the foot of the bed. He seemed to be thinking so Christine stayed quiet.  
  
Finally, he said, "Kiss each other, touch each other. Make me burn for you. For both of you. When I move up, allow enough room for me to kneel between you. But do not let go of each other. The connection must be there for this to work. I hope."  
  
"Hope?" Jim smiled tenderly. "We trust you Spock. If anyone can make this work..."  
  
"Kiss us first," Christine said. She didn't want to say, "In case something goes wrong and one of us ends up on the outside."  
  
But she could tell from his expression as he leaned down to kiss her tenderly that he knew exactly what she was thinking. "I will pull back. It will not come to that."  
  
She nodded, watched him as he kissed Jim just as tenderly. Then he backed off and Jim pulled her toward him. Their kisses started out playful, affectionate, but the lust between them grew, seemed to be stoked by the nervousness at what was to come. As Jim began to kiss down her body, she looked over at Spock. He was watching them intently, his eyes half hooded, as if he was meditating. Or deep in the mating rut.  
  
He slowly began to crawl toward them. Jim moved back up, until he was kissing her on the lips again. His hand found hers. He whispered, "I love you."  
  
Then he moved away, and Spock moved between them. Jim squeezed her hand and she realized he was scared--as scared as she suddenly was. What were they doing? What if this went terribly wrong?  
  
Then Spock's fingers were on their faces, the familiar sensation of him in her mind calmed her. His mindvoice was so full of love, his thoughts so tender even as he seemed to burn with the need to make them both his. She opened herself up to him, could feel Jim do the same as he squeezed her hand again. She suddenly had a picture of what she had looked like to him as she'd walked down the aisle with McCoy. Spock gave her the scene from his perspective. She tried to show them how handsome they had looked to her, waiting at the front of that scarily big church.  
  
Humor suddenly filled the meld, all the silly things that had happened flowing easily between them. She shared Amanda's approval of their union, Spock showed them how even Sarek had tried to unbend in private, Jim shared something McCoy had told him about how lucky they were.  
  
Love. So much love. And enjoyment. And passion. None of them had ever known such joy. Joy in simply being together.  
  
Christine felt a burning start deep in her mind. She squeezed Jim's hand, felt him squeeze back. His mind in hers was suddenly much stronger. Spock moved closer, his hand tightening on her face.  
  
"Parted from me..."  
  
"And never parted," she responded, heard Jim saying the same thing. They were so in synch they almost sounded like one voice.  
  
"Never and always..." Spock's voice was barely a whisper.  
  
"Touching and touched." She felt the burning turn into a fire, a blaze that roared across her mind, and theirs. The three of them. Now one.  
  
One person. Out of three. It was a new world. She could feel their love surrounding her in a way it never had before. Love and support and desire and amusement. Their affection for her that had nothing to do with the lust that flowed so easily between them all. They loved each other. They liked each other. They were bonded now. Forever.  
  
"My god," she said, and was suddenly weeping. She felt Jim's arms come around her. Could feel Spock feeling Jim's arms come around her. Spock touched her face and she could feel how Jim felt the sensual touch.  
  
Sex. They all three thought it at the same time. Sex. Now. Like this. When it truly was impossible to know who was touching whom. She realized she had stopped weeping, that Jim was crying softly. Tears that stopped quickly as he learned to deal with the overwhelming and utterly beautiful sharing.  
  
"I love you," she said to the unit that they had become. The family they now were. "I love us."  
  
She felt Spock's relief. He had been far less sure than he'd let on that it would work.  
  
"We had faith in you, you old lech," Jim said, pulling him in for a kiss.  
  
Their tongues met and Christine could feel the shock of contact.  
  
And then they all fell upon each other. For hours, days, weeks, years. They made love and none of them was sure who was doing what to whom, just that it felt wonderful. That it felt loving and warm and safe.  
  
When they finally came to the next morning, they had managed to kick every trace of bed linen off the bed. Even the bottom sheet was wadded up at the foot of the bed.  
  
"Wow." Jim smiled.  
  
Christine could feel the pulse of their minds in hers. Gentle now. Not at all invasive. A comforting presence.  
  
Jim smiled. Spock sighed, as if in contented relief. Christine turned to look at him, realized her leg was somehow twined with Jim's and gently pulled herself free. Spock's hand was curled in her hair and he let go. She moved and something poked her. She fished under her hip, found a hairpin. So Janice's design wasn't up to post-bonding sex? Surprise, surprise.  
  
"So where's the honeymoon?" she asked, not really caring. In fact, she didn't really want to leave their apartment. Wanted to explore this new place Spock had carried them to.  
  
He suddenly looked sheepish.  
  
Jim laughed out loud. "Why, you cheap bastard." He began to tickle Spock, a feat made easier since both he and Christine could now feel Spock's reactions so much better.  
  
"Try behind the knee," she said softly, and he changed the line of attack.  
  
"I did not know if it would work." Spock was squirming, trying to get away from Jim's hands. He finally caught them up in his.  
  
Jim turned to her. "Go."  
  
She laughed and launched the second offensive while Jim held Spock down.  
  
"So you had a back up plan, did you?" he asked.  
  
"I did. We can still go."  
  
"Go where?" Christine asked.  
  
Spock's eyes seemed to sparkle. "Thule."  
  
"Thanks," she said as she gave up tickling him and began to kiss his inner thigh. "I think I'd rather explore this new world you gave us."  
  
"Me too," Jim said, pulling Spock's mouth to his.  
  
Spock reached for them, lightly touched their faces and the meld sprang into life. He let go and the thing pulsed on, as if with a life of its own.  
  
"The bond makes it easier to sustain the connection," Spock explained.  
  
"Thus freeing up your hands for our pleasure," Christine said with a grin as she turned back to what she'd been doing. Spock's pleasure was important too.  
  
"Damned considerate of you, Spock," Jim said as he moved around behind Christine. His hands rubbed down her back, stopped and lingered on her ass. She moved her mouth away from Spock, groaned as Jim began to do all sorts of naughty things...in all sorts of naughty places. Spock groaned as her pleasure sang through the meld. Jim almost stopped what he was doing as it ricocheted back on him--in a most intensely pleasurable way. His reaction was broadcast back to them, starting the process again.  
  
"We'll never get out of bed," Jim said softly. "We'll die in here and they'll find our cold dead bodies."  
  
"And we'll all have huge smiles on our faces," Christine said, bending back down to Spock's waiting body. "Even our stoic Vulcan husband."  
  
Their stoic Vulcan husband cried out loudly and said a very un-Vulcan like word. Christine felt him shudder, both his body under her mouth and his mind inside hers, sending another loop of passion and bliss crashing against her and Jim. Jim began to move faster, pushing them both over the cliff, still drowning in Spock's orgasm, sending their own climaxes back to him.  
  
As they lay in a heap, Spock touched her head. She looked up at him.  
  
"Is it your medical opinion, Doctor, that sex like this might kill us?"  
  
She tried to catch her breath, somehow managed to grin. "Only if we're very, very lucky, Spock."  
  
"Good." His head crashed down on the mattress as if it was too much work to hold it up.  
  
"I think I'm really going to like being married," Jim said, as he crawled up to rest next to them, his head nestled on Spock's chest, his hand stroking her back.  
  
He got no argument from them.  
  
--Marriage Is What Comes After the Wedding--  
  
Christine heard the front door open. Jim was home. She could feel him, if she reached out just so. Feel his mind even as his footsteps sounded down the hall, quicker and lighter than Spock's.  
  
"Hey," he said, coming into her study and leaning over her. His arms were warm around her as he kissed her neck. "What's my favorite wife doing?"  
  
She smiled. "I have no idea. But I'm reading up on new treatments for Cyrriothic Rheumatic Fever."  
  
He laughed. "Sounds scintillating."  
  
"It is actually. Not that any of us will ever get it. It only affects Andorians."  
  
"But you'll be ready." He kissed her again, then straightened up. "Is that dinner I smell?"  
  
She nodded. "Spock got home early and wanted to cook." She grinned. "I can't imagine why he always offers when it's my turn."  
  
"We both know you burned that first meal on purpose just to get out of KP." He touched her cheek.  
  
She leaned into his hand. "Moi? Burn a meal on purpose?"  
  
"Yes. You." He sighed.  
  
She turned and looked up at him. His face was tighter than she liked to see. She wondered what it had been like before they'd started joking around.  
  
"Work was bad?"  
  
He shrugged.  
  
"Jim." It was the voice she'd perfected. The "don't bullshit me" voice that seemed to work equally well on both Jim and Spock.  
  
He sighed, rubbed his eyes. "I hate it."  
  
When he didn't say more, she rubbed his arm. "I know. I'm sorry."  
  
He shrugged again. "You and Spock are happy. Two out of three ain't bad, isn't that the saying?"  
  
"If it is, then it's a stupid saying." She sighed. "Maybe a different position?"  
  
He looked down at her, didn't bother to reply. They both knew what position he wanted. Wanted back.  
  
Watching the Enterprise being rebuilt, watching Decker assemble his crew-- Jim's old crew--had to be murder. She was increasingly glad she'd turned down the offer to be CMO. She hadn't known that she'd be married to Jim and Spock, but even back then she'd known that she didn't want to leave them. Ever.  
  
Jim smiled. "I have an idea. You get pregnant and I'll stay home and raise the kids."  
  
She stood, ruffled his hair, then pulled him in for a tight hug. "Not that you wouldn't be great at that, but I don't think it would be utilizing your full potential." She was channeling Spock and they both knew it.  
  
He smiled. Then the smile faded. "Sometimes I think I'd like that. The chance to try again. After David."  
  
She nodded. She knew how not being able to see his son was eating him up. She still wanted to kill Carol Marcus every time she saw her in the halls at Starfleet Command.  
  
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you." He started to pull away.  
  
She wiggled to his side instead, wrapping her arm around him and pulling him out of her study and down the hall to the kitchen.  
  
"What about your reading?"  
  
"It can wait. I don't see any Andorians here, do you?"  
  
He kissed her cheek. "I love you."  
  
She smiled. "I know."  
  
Spock looked up, stared at them both and asked quietly. "You did not have a good day?"  
  
"It's good now." Jim's smile almost reached his eyes.  
  
Spock's expression lightened, but concern still showed in his face.  
  
Christine pushed Jim to one of the counter stools and fixed them both Scotches. "Spock, we need to think up a way for Jim to get the Enterprise back."  
  
"All right," he said, turning back to the vegetables he was cooking. He sipped at a glass of Vulcan red as he worked.  
  
"We could commandeer the ship." Christine looked at Jim, checking to make sure he was okay with the jokes.  
  
He was grinning. "We could kidnap Decker and send him to Risa. While I take over on the ship. No one would notice, I'm sure."  
  
Spock shook his head. "Neither of those options is viable for the long term."  
  
Christine leaned up against Jim, watching Spock cook. She always found it soothing. Maybe because she really did hate cooking? "You have a better option, my husband?" He loved it when they addressed him the old-fashioned way.  
  
"It is simple. You must find a way to convince Nogura to put you in Decker's place. Back in command."  
  
Christine looked over at Jim. "Now why didn't you think of that?"  
  
"And just how am I going to do that, Spock?"  
  
"As you always do. By taking advantage of circumstances as they present themselves. By playing your cards right, is that not the saying?"  
  
"I never should have taught you fizzbin." Jim grinned; he seemed lighter.  
  
She and Spock were good for him. But then she already knew that.  
  
Spock suddenly sighed.  
  
"What is it?" she asked.  
  
He turned to look at them, sipped again at his wine thoughtfully before saying, "I am unsure. I feel..." He sighed. Sometimes words were imprecise when Spock's feelings were involved.  
  
He moved the vegetables off the heat and walked over to them. "Let me show you?"  
  
When they nodded, he touched the meld points. Instantly, they were linked, the feeling as heady as it always was. She could feel their love caressing her, knew her own would be bumping up against them too.  
  
She reached for Spock, felt him drop the guards they all were perfecting, that they had to perfect to keep the intense sharing from running their lives--and keeping them in bed all day.  
  
A wave of unease swept over her. It was as if, very far away, something was calling to Spock. The feeling of longing was unmistakable if very alien. But the source. The source was unknown.  
  
Although it seemed to be getting closer. Only she wasn't sure how she knew that.  
  
Spock pulled his hands away, and the meld eased. He returned to the stove, went back to cooking the vegetables. "You see why I am uneasy. I first noticed the feeling several days ago. It has been growing ever since."  
  
Jim sat quietly, seemed to be deep in thought. Then he began to grin.  
  
"Something funny, Jim?" She looked over at Spock.  
  
His eyebrow went up and he shook his head slightly. He obviously did not know what was going on either.  
  
"What if something is coming?" Jim got up, began to pace a bit. "Something big. Something unbelievably destructive. What if it's something that only we can stop?" He looked like a kid let loose in a toy store. He pulled her to him, kissed her soundly, then pulled Spock close, kissed him just as intently. Then he seemed to realize they were looking at him with some astonishment. "What? You don't think I can go without you two, do you?"  
  
Spock looked at her. "It would be lonely without him."  
  
"Damn straight." She turned to Jim. 'While you're at it, get McCoy back too. I don't want to be CMO."  
  
"Okay. I will." Then Jim frowned. "Does he want to come back?" He laughed, as if it was inconceivable that anyone wouldn't want back on the Enterprise.  
  
"Well, I feel better. Don't you?" Christine said, unsure that they were really helping Jim after all.  
  
"Jim," Spock said, his voice soothing but still that of the person who is forced to say what the other doesn't want to hear. "What I shared with you may be nothing."  
  
"Or it may be something, Spock. It may be the biggest something anyone's ever seen. And wouldn't that be great if it was?" He rubbed his hands together. "I've got some reports to read. Call me when dinner's ready." And he was off. No doubt to access his restricted "unknown thing headed for Earth, James T. Kirk the only answer" channel.  
  
"You've created a monster," she said to Spock, as soon as Jim was out of earshot.  
  
"I fear so."  
  
They both fell silent. Finally Spock said. "Do you think he is right?"  
  
She shrugged. "I wouldn't want to bet against our husband. He does have the luck of the devil when it comes to getting what he wants."  
  
"That is true."  
  
"You think the quartermaster will let us ship the bed?"  
  
Spock shrugged. "I will check the protocols for groups."  
  
"You do that." She knew if both Jim and Spock were working on this that Will Decker was in for a very short tenure as captain of the Enterprise.  
  
Provided that the thing she'd felt from Spock really was anything threatening. And headed their way.  
  
She laughed. What Jim needed was a new job. Not some crazy pipe dream about getting the Enterprise back. He'd had the ship for five years. How many more did he think he could finagle?  
  
She began to set the table. Unlike her husbands, she planned to spend the evening doing something practical--checking the position announcements to see if she could find something that would make Jim happy. Or at least happier.  
  
After all, how likely was it that something destructive would be headed to Earth? Or that only Jim Kirk could stop it?  
  
She finished the table and walked over to Spock. He pulled her to him almost absently, his mouth touching down on her hair. She loved it when he was so casually affectionate, as if he didn't have to think with them, never had to keep up his guard.  
  
She heard Jim whoop.  
  
Spock looked down at her as Jim came running into the kitchen.  
  
"Don't wait dinner for me." He pulled on his coat. "I'm going out. I've got an admiral to talk to." He looked at them both for a moment as if making them some kind of promise. Then he hurried out.  
  
Christine leaned into Spock. They stood, not speaking for a long moment, then he began to dish up the vegetables.  
  
"I guess after dinner I should check the regs on non-standard furnishings?" She sighed. Being back on the Enterprise hadn't really been in her plans.  
  
Oh well, whither thou goest and all that. It was what marriage was about. And they'd be with their friends. If they survived.  
  
"Maybe it's nothing," she said quietly as she sat down.  
  
"Perhaps not." Spock poured her some wine.  
  
They looked at each other then both shook their heads. If Jim could swing this--all of them serving together as a family--then he'd be the snake oil salesman of all time.  
  
She wouldn't put it past him.  
  
FIN 


End file.
